


Just One Angry Shot

by WhimsicalRealist



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mad Max Fusion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Hux Has No Chill, Jakku is basically space Australia, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phasma Ships It, Snoke Being a Dick, The Knights of Ren are a bunch of scruffy brigands, fite boners, podracers are totally space motorcycles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-15 14:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalRealist/pseuds/WhimsicalRealist
Summary: There is no greater danger than hope, fragile as it is.There is no greater dream than to dream of the sky, long ago stolen away.There is no greater death than to die historic on the Fury Run.Imperator Hux has served loyally for all of his days, never once questioning or wavering in his resolve. But when his Immortan elects a brigand leader as the third Imperator, wheels of Fate are set into motion that will either deliver his people from the wastes of Jakku...or doom them all anew.All it will take is just one angry shot to decide.





	1. The Fall of Starkiller

**Tell us, oh please, tell us,**

**Who it was that stole the sky.**

**Tell us, oh please, tell us,**

**Who left us here to die?**

 

**Knockback Nectar to numb our woes,**

**When the last well has run dry.**

**Drink to the sand-choked, gutted ships**

**And a brighter time gone by.**

 

**Better to drown in motor oil,**

**Than in sad songs of the past.**

**Better to die on the Fury Run,**

**As nothing living can last.**

 

**Gold on the horizon is the sun,**

**But ‘neath silver moons we sigh:**

**Where did all the green lands go?**

**And who left us here to die?**

  
  


Starkiller. That was home, as far as Imperator Hux was concerned, especially in a forsaken world where such a word had almost lost any meaning. It was familiar, at odds with the ragged maw of chaos that lay just beyond their walls, always hungry to devour them. No finer home could he have asked for, born into and raised within the repurposed decks of a battlecruiser with dreams of traveling the stars haunting him through his childhood. 

Generations had come and perished, losing more of their history with each passing year until little remained: the galaxy beyond the scalding sands of Jakku was naught but legend, the Graveyard of Ships one of the few lasting reminders that some of the tales must have been true. No ships rose to the skies above, the technology lost and resources grew more scarce as warring factions fought to keep their own alive, little concerned with such nonsense as traveling the stars. Scavenging from the less fortunate corpses of the lost Empire, they had turned their ship into a fortress, her countless levels and massive hangars fashioned into machine garages, armories, apartments, even classrooms for the young. Starkillers were fearsome and cunning people, maintaining one of the largest territories on the scorched planet and due to expand after laying waste to several trade settlements on their farthest border.

 

Their esteemed leader, Immortan Snoke, was believed to be timeless, perhaps having once traveled the galaxy on one of the Empire’s ships before the lands turned to sand and ruin. With one hand, he raised Starkiller and her children from squabbling brutes into an army of focused soldiers...with the other, he pointed to the night sky and told them not to despair, that he would be the one to return them to the stars. When all you knew was dry heat, scratchy sand and a thirst that could never quite be sated, such a promise was all it took to earn the loyalty and reverence of each and every Starkiller under his command. 

Tucked away deep inside Starkiller, only his two most trusted soldiers and his personal attendants ever met with him directly, keeping private his deteriorating health and deformed appearance. The first was Copper Warhand Hux, hailing from a family that had long been in service to Immortan Snoke, renowned for their striking red hair and strategic prowess in all matters. Warmaker, as the common people of Starkiller called him, knowing the young man who claimed no first name had no need of it. His duties extended well beyond just ‘making war’, of course, but there came a pride---and a secret, dark thrill---to hear the title spoken so similarly to how they referred to their leader. But he was satisfied to be Snoke’s right hand, given command of a black sandcrawler he had designed himself based on the shape of a battlecruiser and named her ‘ _The Finalizer_ ’. She wasn’t fast, by any means, but she made up for it with thick walls and impressive firepower in addition to the squad of soldiers she could carry inside.

Snoke’s other Imperator was Chrome Warhand Phasma, a fair-haired woman with piercing eyes who had been destined to become a soldier and had risen through the ranks with her fervor in battle to become Captain. Always at the head of any and all war parties, she was infamous for her gleaming chrome armor, skilled both in close-combat with a pike and longer range with her blaster rifle. When not along with Hux in the Finalizer, she had her own personal crawler tank---called _Valkyrja_ \---that offered a bit more mobility than her fellow Imperator’s vehicle of choice.

 

This had been the way of things, and Starkiller flourished. They conquered neighboring moisture farms for their own purposes, forcing the trade routes to alter their course to stop at one of many of their held outposts if they wanted access to water. After all, those that controlled the water, controlled life itself. Nothing could live without it, not even on such an arid and sun-battered planet such as Jakku. No one, not even the Immortan, knew of a time when the world was anything but endless desert, but it was believed that when it was first formed, the lands were lush with green forests and boasted flowing rivers of water, even lakes and perhaps oceans. As their reach grew, however, their expansion did not go unnoticed...nor unanswered. Unrest had grown in another territory, well beyond their own but still close enough that they would consider them neighbors. These so-called Rebels lacked in numbers but made up for it in their tenacity and ability to do quite a bit of damage without half the resources available to larger territories such as Starkiller.

Lead by a woman they called Organa Hopedealer, her people had tried---and failed---on several occasions to infiltrate Starkiller and learn their intentions for the rapid growth the territory was displaying despite a tentative treaty that had once been drawn up between the neighbors. But it was this Hopedealer that their Immortan took issue with personally, though even Hux remained in the dark concerning the true reason. All that he knew---and all that he needed to know---was that the Rebels were a threat to their cause and must be wiped from the face of the planet if Starkiller was to become more than just a territory, but a true nation capable of restoring order to Jakku.

 

Distrust of anyone outside of Starkiller was so ingrained into Hux’s mind from birth that when their Immortan announced that they would soon become allies with a powerful band of roaming brigands, he could scarcely understand what Snoke was thinking. To rub salt into the wound to his ego after the initial shock had worn off, their Immortan named the gang’s leader as his third Imperator, the Carbon Warhand. Hux remembered clearly the evening that he stood to watch from the wall as seven podracers crested the horizon from the Fury Run and made for the gates of Starkiller in a haze of disturbed sand, shimmering silver in the moonlight.

 

“They look absolutely _barbaric_ ,” Hux muttered sourly from his post as the group brought their racers through the gates.

 

“We could use a bit of barbaric, I think,” Phasma chuckled at his side, earning a dismissive snort from her fellow Imperator.

 

Mounting the stairs briskly with the Captain in tow, Hux reached the central plaza just as the last of the seven climbed down from their pod. All of them were clad head-to-toe in black leather apparel, the style and pieces ranging from pilot’s jackets to belted kilts, but they were unified by full-face helmets that they did not remove. The Copper Warhand noted that they also proudly decorated their battered racers with patterns painted in what he could only assume was blood. At his approach, the group fell silent, hovering by their vehicles as only one amongst them strode out to meet him. This one stood slightly taller than Hux, and of much greater build beneath a ratty cloak of some kind and robe-like outerwear. Hanging around their neck was a black chain, from which dangled dim, crackled crystals that ranged in color from blue to green to purple; trophies, if Hux had to guess, and a symbol of leadership amongst the gang.

 

“You must be our new battle dogs,” Hux hummed, extending a hand in greeting. “Welcome to Starkiller, Carbon Warhand. I am Imperator Hux, Copper Warhand and Chief Strategist.”

 

Glancing down at the offering---at least, Hux _assumed_ , based on the slight downward tilt of the helmet---the figure did not accept it, uninterested as their head turned instead to gaze at the base. It left the ginger man bristling, hand falling into a fist at his side with the leather of his glove creaking faintly with how tightly he clenched his fingers.

 

“Kylo Ren. I am to meet with the Immortan, you will take me to him,” replied the stranger, an apparent male voice obscured by a vocoder installed into the helmet.

 

Biting his tongue, Hux gestured for Ren to follow him, turning with a grand swoop of his weathered greatcoat and set off with a stiff and agitated pace across the plaza and into the ground level of the ship. Finding his way through the maze of corridors and stairwells came as second nature to the native Starkiller, so it left plenty of time for him to realize that the brigand’s gaze lingered on his back considerably longer than was necessary.

 

“Must you _leer_?” he snapped after several minutes, glancing over his shoulder.

 

Hux was surprised to hear a muffled noise of amusement from the man behind him, Ren’s head tilting as if in curiosity, but the helmet left him unable to read the other’s expression.

 

“Must _you_ think so loudly, Imperator? I’m merely assessing my surroundings, no need to flatter yourself,” was the other’s reply.

 

Hux turned forward again as he felt his face begin to warm, though he wasn’t sure it was solely out of anger. It was impossible to claim that he knew Ren was staring at him specifically, but he _knew_ what the sensation felt like and _knew_ the other was aware of that, as well. To what ends, he couldn’t begin to imagine, but he felt an uneasiness settling in his stomach to know that his thoughts were not entirely his own with the other man around. Reaching the Immortan’s chamber at last, a wave of relief washed over him that he would be rid of this shadow at last, but Hux went stiff as the other lingered before the open door. While Ren was facing forward, the eerie sensation of eyes upon him raised the hairs on the back of his neck, leaving the Copper Warhand scowling uncomfortably where he stood.

 

“I see why you were given your title,” Ren finally spoke, raising his chin slightly as he stepped forward. “But you are more sunfire than just copper, I think.”

  
The chamber door shut before Hux could even begin to consider replying to such a strange comment, staring long after the new Imperator before shaking himself from his reeling thoughts to stalk back outside to get some air. No good could possibly come of this arrangement, of _that_ he was certain.

 

Hux was not one to question his Immortan’s decisions, but these outsiders---the Knights of Ren, they called themselves---were an insult to the life that the people of Starkiller had fought hard to build. They held no loyalty to any but themselves and a tentative bond to Snoke, a wildcard that he could not fully account for in his plans and that was when they were even around to be considered part of any given mission. It seemed their chief purpose in Starkiller was to brave the wastes on their repulsorcrafts in search of artifacts---especially some sort of map---for the Immortan and to lay waste to his enemies while the people Starkiller were tasked with defending the borders of their territory and the base itself. What bothered Hux the most, however, was that Ren had been not just a mindless brute but a Darkwalker, one who followed an ancient path of power that gave him abilities that the more simple-minded considered to be magic. It was the Force that the man wielded along with a saber that sputtered and hissed like a furious arc of electricity. This power is what Snoke prized him for, and---though it was not his place to question or speculate---Hux was convinced this was a piece of a much larger plan that he was not privy to.

Ren was important to Snoke, and thus, Hux had no choice but to respect his Immortan’s decision. However…

  


Standing on a high dune overseeing the Graveyard of Ships, the moons cold against his back, fury boiled the Warmaker’s blood some cycles after that first meeting as he watched Starkiller---his home, the only one he had ever known---burn. Her skeleton was black against the glutinous flames that grew only stronger as more of the ship’s contents caught fire, aided by the explosive charges that the Rebels had placed before their escape. Heated wind tossed Hux’s greatcoat as he stared silently, a gloved hand clutched tight around the strap of his rifle. Above his head, the signal flare he had fired aloft cast him in a violent red glow as he at last turned to face his companion who lay in the sand, dragged there from the ruins of Starkiller by Hux himself.

 

“If not for my orders to bring you to the Immortan, you would _burn_ for this, Darkwalker,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

 

Ren cracked his good eye open, the other glued shut by dried blood from a ragged gash that bisected his face and ran down along his neck to his shoulder, right arm limp and useless at his side. He supposed he should be thankful for being rescued, but removing him from the immediate danger of the burning ship had been all Hux considered necessary of him in regards to Snoke’s orders. Heaving a shaky breath, the Darkwalker winced and hoped that his fellow Imperator did not act on the very loud thought of putting his leather boot straight through his skull. Yet, somehow there lay a strange...beauty about the other man, the golden glow of destruction in the valley below leaving him with a near-halo around his coppery hair. Sunfire ignited, his mind provided, and oh how it burned him straight to the core to see that fury directed toward him.

 

“I couldn’t have known,” he managed to murmur, extinguished saber clutched tight in his good hand. “She was just a scavenger…”

 

Strange and unwelcome emotions began to shift and unfurl within the Copper Warhand’s chest as he actually studied the other on the ground, seeing his face for the first time. Ren was far younger than he had anticipated, an almost painful youth to him to match his dark, sorrowful eyes. His raven-dark hair was matted with sweat and caked with blood from the gouge that had been dealt across his cheek and he had begun to go a sickly shade already from his injuries. While on their own, Ren possessed odd features that some might consider ugly, but the sum of his parts made for a handsomeness that seemed to Hux to be in direct opposition to his temper and petulant personality. He hated this man, moreso now that he saw what he looked like beneath a brigand’s trappings...if only because he _liked_ what he found there.

  
“Well, congratu-fucking-lations, Imperator Ren,” the ginger snapped back. “Now we’re _all_ just scavengers.”


	2. Bacta Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Starkiller burns to cinders in the valley below, Hux must tend to the injured Darkwalker. While knowing it's part of the orders the Immortan has given him, it doesn't mean he has to be enthusiastic about it...or gentle.

With the pillar of smoke rolling skyward behind them, Hux had finally sat down roughly with an exhausted huff beside Ren, keeping the sight of his burning home at his back. Not that it would help him much, the image was seared into his heart already, sure to follow him into his dreams as he heard the screams of those who had not been able to escape the wreckage. Thankfully, the Rebels had taken off in pursuit of the various vehicles that had made a hasty retreat from the base, taking several different routes in an attempt to keep them from finding their leader. Even Hux did not know which would carry Snoke, but he was certain that Phasma would have made sure their Immortan was safe in his stead. Staying behind to drag the injured brigand from the wreckage had been a true test of his loyalty, as he viewed the task as not only beneath him but a waste of time. Now, as the contingency plan dictated, the survivors would scatter into the wastes to throw off their pursuers, only regrouping when they were certain they had given them the slip. It was going to be hell catching up with them.

 

“Is...anyone coming?” Ren croaked after several minutes, glancing to the man sitting beside his injured arm.

 

“No, of course not, that’s what the Rebels  _ expect _ ,” Hux snorted. “Some of them have doubled back after I fired that flare.”

 

“Why fire it, then?”

 

“To distract those idiots so the others have time to get away. Phasma will know the meaning of the red color and report it to our Immortan. He will know I am alive and that I have followed his orders. But it would be too risky to send anyone back to collect us. We’re on our own.”

 

Ren studied the ginger absently as he spoke, gaze lingering on the crease of his knit brow and falling to the constellation of freckles that lay across the bridge of his nose and dusted his cheeks. While normally his fellow Imperator was a stickler for his appearance---regardless of the fact that they lived on a sand-choked planet that assured that  _ everything _ was dusty,  _ always _ \---the situation seemed to have given him distraction from the fact that his copper hair had come loose of its usual, slicked-back state. When steely green eyes caught Ren’s, he glanced away quickly, hoping it was just a side-effect of his current state that left him finding the image of the disgruntled man beside him...well, attractive. His helmet usually obscured the appreciation of such details, and such a vantage point hadn't been possible for him until now, ironically. In a world full of constant strife and death, it wasn't often that you found something truly beautiful, but Ren  _ did _ wish it didn't come with a heaping dose of loathing from the ginger. Within reach, yet so far away.

 

“How did you let a  _ scavenger _ do that to you?” Hux snorted, and Ren could feel his face turn hot with shame.

 

“I underestimated her, that’s all.”

 

“You were distracted,” the other added, giving a satisfied smirk when his fellow Imperator flinched. “Plus you got yourself shot by a bowcaster, of all things...what  _ were _ you even doing in that hangar, anyway?”

 

“Looking for the girl and her accomplices,” Ren snapped, grimacing as he shifted to sit up and jostled his injuries. “They were...planting explosives there, to bring the base down on itself. I was there to stop them, nothing more.”

 

“Ah, yes, well,  _ thank you _ for that,” Hux drawled, rolling his eyes as he reached a hand out to push his ‘charge’ back on the ground. “Your efforts certainly saved the day.”

 

Opening his mouth to protest, the words died on his dry tongue as Ren watched the other man draw a satchel around into his lap and began rummaging in it until he produced a roll of clean bandages and a little glass tube of a gelatinous substance that could only be bacta. A highly prized material, it was surprising to see that Hux had some with him, let alone that he was willing to use it on him.

 

“I don’t have enough to treat all of this mess,” the ginger admitted with a gesture at the other’s body. “The blaster wound will use up about half, the rest is gonna go on your arm. So I’m going to have to wrap this bandage around that gouge in your face, since it’s the least important injury. You’ll scar, but that’s hardly a problem when you wear that bucket all the time.”

 

“That’s comforting, but...”

 

“There are no “buts” in this situation, Darkwalker. We don’t have time to lay about and wait for you to heal naturally,” Hux interrupted. “Or use your  _ Force _ , if that’s even something it can do.”

 

“Does your kit have a field cauterizer?” Ren continued, narrowing his good eye at the other man.

 

An orange brow raised at the question and gave Hux pause. As a well-prepared leader and after years of serving on the Fury Run, he never left base without stocking his pack with every and any possible necessity for any situation, so  _ of course _ his kit contained a field cauterizer. He made certain the device was kept charged and in proper working order, but he had never had need to make use of it.

 

“I do. Why?” he finally replied, earning a relieved sigh from the man lying beside him.

 

“Use that instead.”

 

“Instead of the bandages.”

 

“Yes, instead of the bandages.”

 

“On your face.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You want me...to use a field cauterizer on your face, in the dark, with no way of sedating you.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, just so we’re clear,” Hux muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to hurt.”

 

“An untrained scavenger just carved me open in several places with a lightsaber after I was shot in the hip with a bowcaster,” Ren grumbled, managing a weak smirk, though it did little to hide a flicker of anxiousness at the idea passing through his expression. “Your little cauterizing stick is nothing I can’t handle. Besides, I think you  _ want _ it to hurt, anyway.”

 

The expression Hux wore left little room to counter the claim, no sign of amusement at the attempt of humor. The brigand’s eye moved away again under the weight of the other’s stare. Of  _ course _ he wanted Ren to hurt, Ren had all but signaled for the Rebels himself to come and attack Starkiller.  _ He _ was the one who failed to stop the explosives that had done the ship in and let the scavenger escape  _ again _ , a subject that was sure to be sore for quite some time. But as the ginger loomed over Ren, Hux could feel the outrage begin to wane---if even just faintly---because it was the first time he was seeing Ren in such a vulnerable state. Without his helmet and imposing posture, this was just another man laid low by their enemies, dirty and bloody and tired and painfully young. Far younger than Hux had thought him to be and certainly more easy on the eyes, even when he was a maimed, sweaty mess. But the combination of his handsome face and the sympathy his injuries invoked only made the ginger angrier, leaving him with a sour scowl following the attempt Ren made at a joke.

 

Shrugging out of his greatcoat, Hux then rolled up his sleeves, keeping his gloves on while unscrewing the top of the bacta vial. Ren’s gaze wandered to the exposed skin of the other man’s arms, blinking in surprise to find identical tattoos wrapping around each. They were twin sets of three, thick bands, spaced about half an inch apart. The edges were crisp and precise, no doubt done by a skilled artist; the Copper Warhand would not have settled for anything less, in Ren’s experience. But while the set on the left arm were black as pitch, those on the right were a tan shade that seemed to match closely with his freckles. He wondered if they had a meaning behind them and the difference between the styles…

 

Hux took advantage of the moment of distraction to push the fabric out of the way of the seared skin on Ren’s hip and poured the gooey bacta directly onto the wound, reveling briefly in the shocked hiss the other man made at the contact. He had a feeling the Darkwalker had been trying to act tough, but Hux knew that batca wasn’t comfortable by any stretch of the imagination. 

 

“Some warning next time!” Ren barked, shuddering at the unexpected and wholly unpleasant sensation of his skin and muscle tissue actually knitting themselves back together.

 

“Try not to get kriffed up in the future and there won’t be any need,” Hux snorted, standing up stiffly to move to the man’s other side so he could repeat the process on the length of the gouge in his shoulder and arm. Again, without warning.

 

“You asshole!” the younger man snarled, eye wringing shut as he sucked in a sharp breath, fingers spasming as the batca set to work repairing damage that had been dealt to his nerves.

 

“Count your blessings, you get to keep your arm. Some wouldn’t be so lucky.”

 

“Remind me to be grateful after it stops itching like you poured sand in it,” Ren managed through grit teeth, the itching giving way to a cold numbness that reached deep into his bones.

 

“You supposedly aren’t afraid of the field cauterizer, but you’re whining like a child already about the  _ bacta _ ?” Hux mocked

 

There was absolutely nothing natural about being awake to feel your body rapidly repairing itself, and it had the Darkwalker’s stomach in knots as the sensation radiated from two different areas. He was thankful, of course, to finally get some sort of attention to his injuries, but Hux had the bedside manner of a furious bantha. It left Ren a bit more anxious concerning having the field cauterizer anywhere near him, let alone on his face. Finally, he managed to pry his good eye open again to look up at the other man, lifting his intact arm so he could tap a finger clumsily on the black band closest to Hux’s elbow.

 

“What are these?” he asked, needing distraction.

 

“Tattoos, obviously.”

 

“ _ Obviously _ . What do they mean?”

 

“Do they  _ need _ to mean something?”

 

“No,” Ren sighed, lowering his hand again. “But you don’t strike me as the type to get something frivolously. It’s a lengthy process. Painful. You have six total, which would account for several different sessions. That’s a lot to invest on something if it doesn’t have meaning.”

 

“If you  _ must _ know,” Hux finally relented, tucking the empty bacta tube back into his satchel. “Each band was for a milestone in my life. The first came when I was accepted into the Vworkka Unit and earned my rifle. The second, shortly thereafter, was my first successful mission on the Fury Run. The third was becoming an Imperator.”

 

“But what about  _ these _ three?” Ren asked, reaching to indicate the tan set on the other arm, only to yelp indignantly as Hux slapped his hand away with a harsh glare.

 

“Mind your own business,” he warned waspishly before rummaging again, producing the field cauterizer. “Want something to bite down on, or can I count on you not to cry out like a gutted happabore?”

 

Such a jab would normally warrant one in return, but Ren grumbled under his breath before fumbling his hand unceremoniously into Hux’s satchel until he located the roll of bandages, shoving them between his teeth. While he would never give the other man the satisfaction of hearing him cry out if the pain grew bad enough, he wasn’t about to risk the chance he couldn’t keep it in on his own. Glaring up at the ginger, he gave a nod and closed his eye, focusing instead on keeping his breathing easy and his heart rate as calm as possible. After all, it wouldn’t do for him to spasm or jump unexpectedly and cause further damage.

 

There was something almost admirable about the Darkwalker’s willingness to endure the pain of a cauterizer, both men bound by duty to make their way back to what remained of the Starkiller faction. Hux would have gladly left Ren behind if he thought he would prevent him from doing so, regardless of his orders, but it seemed the younger man was ready to do whatever it took to get back on his feet. For that fact alone, Hux decided he would not fall prey to his temptation to ‘accidentally’ laser the idiot’s eye shut completely and make quick work of repairing what he could. While the saber had at least mostly burned shut the wound when the scavenger had tried to cleave Ren open, it was still seeping slightly and he couldn’t imagine it would do either of them any good if it got infected.

 

“Deep breath, Darkwalker, and then stay perfectly still,” Hux warned, clicking the cauterizer on and situated himself so he could lean over the other’s face. “If you move, I’m not responsible for what happens.”

 

Wrinkling his nose in concentration, the Copper Warhand brought the small laser to the start of the cut on Ren’s forehead and began the grueling process of ‘stitching’ the skin together. Despite having mentioned the fact that it was night, his hand was steady and the moons offered just enough illumination to work by, pausing infrequently to listen for voices or approaching vehicles. As far as he could tell, the Rebels were still focusing on the burning hulk of the ship or speeding off into the desert again once they discovered that the flare had just been a distraction. Part of him wondered if they had found any survivors, gritting his teeth to consider even one of their own captured and knowing that he was not in any position to do anything to help them. 

 

Sweat had begun to bead along Ren’s brow as he kept his eye wrenched shut, teeth practically gnawing at the bandages as Hux reached the bridge of his nose, knowing that he was getting dangerously close to his eye that he prayed was only glued shut by blood and not actually lost to the injury. Kylo did as instructed, however, scarcely even breathing as the other continued onward, silently rejoicing as the laser finally dragged down toward his cheek and away from the thinner skin over the eye socket. He had to hand it to Hux, it was a decent job for someone who wasn’t trained to perform such a procedure, marveling absently in the fog of pain and numbness in the bacta-coated areas at the steadiness of his hand. If it had been anyone else, Ren might have taken his chances with the bandages.

 

Time dragged on, but within the hour, Hux snapped the cauterizer off and put it away, sitting back to survey his work. Clicking his tongue, he once more went into the bag, this time producing a simple swatch of sanitized cloth that he dampened with a dribble of water from his canteen. Without further prompting, he quietly dabbed at the grime coating Ren’s face, mindful not to touch the freshly burned wound. It wasn’t much, but he felt better not having quite so much filth present that would have raised the chances of anything getting infected. Tossing the cloth aside, the ginger leaned back on his hands to study the sky, finding the constellations he was familiar with to help him calculate the time.

 

“We have a few hours before dawn,” he finally commented, glancing back down at his patient. “Will you be ready to move soon?”

 

“I feel like I swallowed a sandborer,” Ren groaned hoarsely after a long moment.

 

“Forgive me if I don’t spare you any sympathy.”

 

“Give me...some time to rest. An hour, at least.”

 

“Fine,” Hux snorted, rising to his feet. “I’m going to do a bit of scouting. I would tell you to stay put, but I hardly think you have a choice.”

 

“Don’t go far, Imperator,” the Darkwalker warned, frowning. “If the Rebels are still about, it’s best to stay clear.”

 

“You don’t say,” Hux scoffed, dumping his greatcoat over the other’s prone form. “Rest. We’re leaving to find shelter as soon as you can stand on your own.”

 

As Hux strode off, moreso to clear his head and get away from the other man for a while, Ren cracked his good eye open a sliver to watch him through the veil of his lashes. A deep cloud of sorrow hung heavily around the Copper Warhand’s head for the loss of his home, but his fellow Imperator could see the flashes of brilliant determination and passion still. This was a man who had been brought to a knee, but refused to remain there; it was a trait that Ren could certainly admire. Closing his eye once more with a sigh, he tried to ignore the tingling of the bacta and the searing heat across his face to try and get a brief nap in, drawing the greatcoat properly over his chest with his good hand. It was a tiny gesture of goodwill, the offering of a makeshift blanket, but he hoped it meant there was hope yet that the older man didn’t  _ completely _ loathe him.

 

By the time Hux returned, Ren had not only woken from a fitful nap, but was sitting upright. In a show of gratitude---or perhaps respect---he had properly folded the other’s greatcoat and had it sitting in his lap. The sight seemed to appease Hux, as his demeanor relaxed almost imperceivably as he came to a stop before the Darkwalker. Yet Ren couldn’t help but to feel uneasy at the shift in Hux’s mood.

 

“Good, you’re already up. Looks like my work paid off.”

 

“How did the scouting go?” Ren asked, offering up the coat stiffly, still getting used to using both arms again.

 

“Uneventful. The Rebels have a small camp on the outskirts of the base,” Hux reported, slipping the coat back over his shoulders where it belonged. “Ten, maybe fifteen of them. Hoping to catch anyone trying to double back, no doubt. They’ll give it up in a day or so, I’m sure, but that leaves us kriffed. I spotted your pod: it’s still in one piece, thankfully, but there’s no way we’re getting to it without them knowing.”

 

“So we wait them out, then retrieve it once they leave,” the younger man suggested.

 

“Brilliant plan, minus one  _ little _ problem.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“You have no supplies with you, and I have just one canteen of water and a few emergency ration packs,” the ginger replied, offering a hand to help Ren up. “First things first, however.”

 

Eyeing the helping hand suspiciously for a moment, the Darkwalker reached out with his good hand to accept the assistance, glad to finally get his feet under him again. The muscles in his legs burned, still sore from his lengthy fight with the scavenger and her friend---a traitor of Starkiller he had happily struck down. But the fleeting feeling of victory at being upright was lost when a gloved fist connected squarely with his jaw, whiting out his vision and left Ren reeling; Hux had one hell of a right hook.

 

“What the kriffing hell?!” he snarled, staggering backward just in time to dodge the second swing.

 

“Well, what did you  _ expect _ ?!” Hux barked back, shaking out the hand he had made contact with. “I wasn’t about to hit someone who couldn’t even defend themselves, that’s just poor form.”

 

Rubbing at his jaw and knowing it would bruise, Ren scowled at the other man as he drew himself up to his full, imposing height. Even in his current state, he could easily subdue the other Imperator with his Force abilities, or strike him down with his faulty saber if the mood struck him. But by the sharp, justified, white-hot anger in the other’s eyes, he could tell that this wasn’t a life-or-death fight that would require such tactics; Hux wasn’t an enemy, after all, but in the moment, he was certainly  _ not _ on Ren’s side.

 

“Do you really need to get this out of your system  _ now _ ?” he asked sourly, rolling his neck until the bones gave a satisfying crack.

 

“No time like the present,” the Copper Warhand replied, an ugly smirk playing across his lips that caused something to stir in Ren’s chest. “Square up, Darkwalker.”

 

Without realizing it, the pair had begun to circle, keeping their eyes locked and bodies tense as they each waited to spring into action at the first sign of movement from the other. Ren was used to physical fights and even kept himself in the practice of sparring with his fellow Knights, but as far as he was aware, Hux was a trained Vworkka; they were the ones to ride atop the various rigs and snipe their enemies from afar, very rarely having any need to fight an enemy directly. But there had been a decent amount of strength in that suckerpunch to his jaw and he knew he would be a fool to underestimate the other man, especially given his current motivations.

 

But if what Hux said was true, they had only a single canteen of water and a few rations between them both that would have to last them until they could get to his pod. They couldn’t afford to have a lengthy fight, especially not at the risk of either of them ending up with broken bones or worse. Ren knew the fight was unavoidable now, but he would have to try and end it quickly so as to not waste their energy needlessly. Resolved to the task, he shifted to lunge forward, surprising Hux into springing forward as well.

 

After two swings already, Ren knew that his opponent was scrappy, using speed and his clever mind to get him the upper hand against a larger opponent. So he tried to anticipate the next move Hux would make, but the fist he caught in his palm had drawn short in the split second before it impacted. Why would he---? A choked sound soon followed as he realized a moment too late that while he blocked one fist, the ginger’s other hand had swung his rifle around to jab the butt right into Ren’s gut. Snarling in anger, the Darkwalker reached out and took hold of the gun with both hands after shoving Hux’s fist away, taking advantage of the strap looped around the other Imperator and swung around harshly. The motion tore Hux off his feet and then Ren let go, allowing the momentum to throw the other man to the ground.

 

Before Hux could roll back onto his feet, the Darkwalker pounced, practically crushing him beneath the considerable bulk he carried on his frame. His rifle dug painfully into his back as Ren sat up, reaching out to pin one of the ginger’s wrists down while deflecting another swing with his other hand. When Hux tried to buck the younger man off of him, Ren shifted to straddle his hips, which only infuriated the other further. Finally, after taking a stray knock to one of his ears that left it ringing, the Darkwalker managed to get both of Hux’s wrists under his hands. Breathing heavily, he glowered down at the man beneath him.

 

“Are you  _ done _ ?” he hissed, glad for the exertion as it lent a convenient cover for the flustered state he found himself in moments later.

 

“Never,” Hux spat back, teeth bared in an almost feral snarl.

 

Context went out the window as Ren froze, recognizing that odd sensation he’d felt earlier in his chest for what it was as he looked Hux over. Copper hair had gone completely wild, fanned out beneath his head in a chaotic halo against the sand as bright, fury-filled green eyes narrowed at him, his chest heaving for air in the confined space between their bodies. It was almost as if he could taste the fire on the other’s breath, could feel it raging beneath his freckled skin and unfortunately for Ren, the effects soon became apparent to them both.

 

“Are you...are you actually  _ hard _ right now, Ren?” the ginger asked incredulously, an angry blush making his already flustered complexion turn splotchy.

 

“Shut the kriff up,” Ren replied, gaze darting to the side as he desperately tried to will his body to calm down, though there was no denying the trapped erection pressing against Hux’s waist.

 

“Get off of me, you useless luggabeast!” Hux ordered, renewing his writhing in an attempt to free himself from the situation...which only served to make things worse.

 

“Stop moving around like that, then, or  _ else _ !” the other hissed, his blush having reached all the way up to his ears and down his neck.

 

“Or else  _ what _ ?” Hux challenged, raising his head up until the were perhaps a breath away from their lips touching.

 

It was a thoroughly distracting moment for Ren, his mouth suddenly going horribly dry as he watched the other’s lips curl into a dangerous, enchanting sort of smirk. He could close that distance between them easily, giving in to the temptation and sating his curiosity by tasting the fire directly. Where this impulse had come from and the desire curling painfully hot in his belly, he couldn’t pinpoint, but it felt like something that had been there for some time, ignored and denied. It was almost frightening how badly he wanted it, wanted Hux…

 

“You  _ really _ need to stop letting yourself get distracted,” Hux whispered, and reared back enough to bring his head crashing forward into Ren’s.

 

Yelping as the strike landed at the top arc of his cauterized wound, a hand flew loose from Hux’s wrist to instinctively cover the spot that had been hit, giving the ginger access to one of his hands. Quick as lightning, he had his fingers into Ren’s long hair and wrenched backward with a fistful in his grasp, marveling at the deep snarl Ren let out at the flash of pain radiating across his scalp. When the Darkwalker tried to reach back behind his head to pry Hux’s hand away from his hair, the ginger dug in his heels and bucked his hips up harshly, hoping to throw Ren off-balance enough to free himself. Instead, he blinked in shock as the younger man choked on a groan that  _ couldn’t _ have been out of pain, fingers loosening just long enough to lose the upper hand.

 

Swearing under his breath, Ren had hold of the other’s wrist again and shoved it back to the ground beside the other one, surging forward until he was right in Hux’s face in a curtain of his dark curls. Licking his dry lips, he could feel his heart racing in his chest, matched only by the one he could feel throbbing against his palms. It took every ounce of restraint not to cave then and there to the very real, very powerful temptation, his dark eyes blown wide. The other’s mind was a roaring typhoon of conflicting emotions and desires, threatening to drown the Force-user if he wasn’t careful.

 

“Or else I do something to shut you up altogether,” Ren finally managed between breaths, grip tightening like a vice around the other’s wrists.

 

Hux glared up at the younger man, but something about the words left him with a shudder that ran down the length of his spine until it settled somewhere below his belt. Ren’s voice was low and heavy with a desire he couldn’t help but to be curious about, regardless of the ember of righteous anger he clutched close to his heart.

 

“Try it, Darkwalker, and you’ll lose more than just your tongue,” he finally warned, a pleased grin following as Ren practically threw himself up to his feet and off of Hux.

 

“Why would my tongue be  _ anywhere _ near you?” Ren snapped, hands balled into fists at his side as he shook with more than just anger.

 

“Maybe that’s a question better suited to your  _ cock _ ,”  Hux hummed, laying in the sand with a shit-eating smirk. “It seemed quite eager to say ‘hello’, in fact. Why not introduce us?”

 

Ren bristled at that and somehow managed to turn a deeper shade of red, turning on a heel to begin stalking off, leaving Hux to burst into triumphant laughter behind him. What had he even been thinking? Ever since he had come to Starkiller, his fellow Imperator had been nothing less than icy and unwelcoming toward him: what made him think things had even possibly gotten better  _ now _ ?

 

“Wait! Come back! You haven’t finished ravaging me properly! Where are your manners?!”

 

Silence met this jab and, after sobering himself, Hux sat up to notice that Ren had not so much as even paused in his determined strides away from him. Rolling his eyes, the Copper Warhand picked himself up from the sand and dusted off his pants, setting off after the younger man at a leisurely pace as he realized that Ren was heading for a nearby cluster of stone pillars. At least he remembered in his compromised state that they needed to seek shelter before the sun could rise and fry them. Though Ren desperately hoped he could find two separate holes, wanting nothing more to do with the assholish redhead at the moment.

 

Maybe he could meet a nicer version of him in his dreams...


	3. A Taste of Sunfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being left behind when the Rebels destroyed Starkiller, things steadily head downhill as the Imperators are forced to try waiting out their enemies...

When cover was finally found in the form of an alcove in the rock formation that Ren had stormed off toward---a bemused Hux trailing behind with a satisfied smirk---the suns were just beginning to threaten the horizon. Despite several hours having passed since the final explosion had rocked through Starkiller, the smoke billowing up from her corpse was still roiling black, an impressive pillar against the deep blue sky. For his own sake, Hux kept it at his back and tried not to look over his shoulder. On the Fury Run, ‘home’ was a novel concept and something like their base was becoming rare in the tumultuous wastes of Jakku. I. It would do no good to dwell on the loss. Still, it had created an unexpected hollowness in his chest, and it was the second wound he had been dealt by the Rebels...such a crime would not go unanswered, regardless of his orders. In the meantime, he was itching to get another shot in on Ren, still not quite satisfied by the brief spat that had ended rather awkwardly.

 

“You think too loudly,” the Darkwalker muttered, standing at the entrance of the alcove---it was far too small to count as a cave. “You know punching me doesn't get you revenge against the Rebels, right?”

 

“It's an acceptable placeholder in the meantime,” Hux replied with a huff, glad to finally stop walking. “And no one told you to eavesdrop on my thoughts.”

 

“You're supposed to bring me back to Immortan Snoke,” Ren reminded the other man with a scowl, though there was something about his expression that left Hux thinking it more similar to a pout. 

 

“Yes, bring you back  _ alive _ . Those are my orders. My Immortan specified  _ nothing _ about requiring you to be in one piece, however, nor did he make to promise I wouldn't take every opportunity to give you hell.”

 

“Why are you so fracking set on being a whiny pissant about this?”

 

An orange brow raised at that, Hux noting that the younger man sounded almost hurt. While part of him was glad for it and intended to continue to hit at that particular injury like a steelpecker on a stranded rig, another was curious about this weaker side to a man he knew so very little about. As far as he had been concerned, Ren and his Knights were faceless barbarians who knew nothing about honor, hygiene, or proper social interaction, having long doubted some of them even spoke or possessed any emotions at all. Yet here was their leader, far too young---plus frustratingly handsome, his thoughts provided unhelpfully---and too emotional to fit that mold he had imagined them formed from.

 

“Because it's all I have right now, thanks to you,” Hux replied sourly, climbing into the minimal shelter the alcove offered to sit, keeping his legs stretched out before him.

 

“You blame me for the attack on Starkiller.” It was a statement rather than a question, Ren hovering just outside the rocky nook.

 

“You may as well have opened the gates for them. So yes, I  _ do _ blame you.”

 

“I couldn't have known they would be able to infiltrate the base,” the younger man tried, shifting anxiously where he stood. “Or that they would actually blow it up.”

 

“Ignorance is hardly an excuse, especially in  _ your _ case,” the other scoffed from the alcove. “You're going to have to try harder than that.”

 

“What's the point? You seem pretty content to stay pissed off at me. It would be a waste of both our time,” Ren grumbled, finally crouching down to crawl into the other side, as far away from Hux as he could manage.

 

“At last, something we can actually agree on,” Hux snorted, glancing at the younger man from the corner of one eye. “The less time wasted on  _ any _ sort of conversation with you, the better. Now, see if you can go the rest of the morning not speaking to me. I don't need your ridiculous voice spoiling my rest.”

 

Opening his mouth to reply, Ren snapped his jaw shut a moment later with a rueful glare and wrapped himself in his own cloak as a makeshift blanket. He wouldn't give the other man the satisfaction of falling for such an obvious trap. If Hux wanted his silence, then that's what he would get. It was painfully clear that there were no words he could offer to extinguish the flames of fury still licking at the Copper Warhand’s thoughts, no chance to make him understand that Ren never wanted any of this to happen. Despite their differences, the Darkwalker had come to begrudgingly respect---perhaps even look up to---Hux, a touch envious of the command in his voice and the self-discipline he maintained in any  situation . Or so he had thought...the recent disaster had seemed to dredge up a fearsome temper that had been lying in wait beneath Hux’s usual stern and collected demeanor. Ren, on the other hand,  had a reputation for a terrible temper, but when his survival---and that of those around him---was on the line, he was able to keep a level head. They could have easily been two sides of the same coin, yet it seemed that from the moment Ren rode through the gates of Starkiller, Hux had already determined that he would loathe the younger man. Hoping to someday move past the other’s opinion of him, the loss of Starkiller, unfortunately, wouldn’t do Ren any favors in that department. Closing his eyes against the unpleasant thoughts, Ren sighed and tried to will himself to get some rest, a hand resting over the saber clipped to his belt just in case.

 

Finding that the other had not even so much as nibbled at the trap, Hux closed his own eyes with a snort, almost disappointed to get what he asked for, for once. In the yawning silence between them, he could feel the gravity of loss nipping at the back of his mind, seeking attention he was steadfast in refusing. There would be time later, perhaps years from now, that he would mourn the loss of Starkiller, but not in the present. Too much to be done, options needed to be found for a new base---a new home---and a plan of action drawn up to address the Rebels in the face of their recent victory. They would be emboldened, thinking the Starkiller faction broken and scattered to the winds. No doubt they would celebrate, but then they would be quick to move on the various outposts and moisture farms that still flew Snoke’s banner, costing them further footing on the Fury Run. The sooner they could reclaim Ren’s racer and go after their people, the better. Time was already against them and he hated to think what any further delay could cost them.

  
  
  


The day passed.

 

In the evening, Hux had crept back to the ledge overlooking the valley while his stubbornly silent companion sought higher ground to check for signs of any of the Starkiller convoys. While the ship had finally begun to extinguish itself, the flames running out of kindling, the handful of Rebels that had stayed behind were sitting down to a peaceful meal together in their makeshift camp in what had once been the main courtyard. It left a sour taste in Hux’s mouth, seeing his enemy enjoying the spoils of Starkiller labor after having pillaged what they could from the inferno. They also had collected quite a few barrels of water. The Copper Warhand’s mouth was obnoxiously dry, but not enough so that he was ready to drink from his canteen just yet. It would be  _ so _ simple to bring his rifle around, pick them off one by one, and reclaim their supplies---

 

[You’re  _ good _ , Imperator Hux, but not quite  _ that _ good.] Ren’s disembodied voice advised within Hux’s thoughts, causing every ginger hair to stand on end at the intrusion. [It isn’t worth the risk.]

 

Glaring over his shoulder in the general direction he assumed the Darkwalker to be in, he thought every last vile, nasty word he could come up with to fill his mind with a thick miasma of negativity that would hopefully repulse Ren from trying to address him again. Hux couldn’t stand that particular Force ‘trick’ and refused to respond to it kindly, regardless of the practical applications of long-distance communication. 

 

Pettiness sometimes outweighed his reasoning.

  
  


The night came.

The night passed.

 

The sun broke on the second morning, rising over the blackened remains of Starkiller.

  
  


Still, the Rebels lingered, waiting either for stragglers to return to the ship or for their own people bringing news. Hux had spent the majority of the afternoon tucked into their alcove, having gone through the last of their water and only a day’s worth of dry meal-crackers remained. While his stomach was empty and protesting, he couldn't bring himself to even nibble at one, knowing it would only leech the sparse moisture left in his mouth. Ren, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine in the heat, despite his layers of black on black leather; in comparison, Hux had stripped down to his white tank and boxers, greatcoat draped over his shoulders to prevent them from burning under the sun.

 

The day was spent in tense silence, each man wordlessly taking turns to keep tabs on the Rebels from the overlook, but their enemies showed no signs of budging from their camp.

 

The second night was colder than the previous, yet Hux and Ren remained on either side of their alcove, stubbornly shivering in silence rather than be the first to suggest shifting closer to pool their body heat. Foolish, certainly, but each had their pride to maintain when there wasn’t much else left to them.

  
  


Under the early morning sun of the third day, Hux crawled out from the shelter of the alcove as he spotted Ren approaching from yet another disappointing venture to the ledge overlooking Starkiller, seeing the slump of the younger man’s shoulders and knowing that it meant the Rebels were still there. Cracked lips drew themselves into a scowl that threatened to cause another split in the dry skin for the expression, the Copper Warhand feeling only the heat of anger brewing in his chest. He was exhausted, thirsty, starving for real food, and now he was starting to feel dizzy just by standing...but most of all, he was tired of doing  _ nothing _ .

 

“What...are they waiting for?” he hissed, making a rude gesture toward the overlook in the distance. “They should realize by now that no one is coming back to this stars-forsaken wreckage!”

 

“I don’t know, Imperator,” Ren replied with a grimace at the emotional noise radiating from the other man. “Shall I go down and ask them for you?”

 

“Don’t get  _ smart _ with me, brigand,” Hux snapped back, bristling. “It doesn’t suit you.”

 

Ren scowled, one hand itching absently at the scab across his face for a moment before he strode past his irritable companion, knocking shoulders in the process---on purpose, of course.

 

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your lackluster underlings,” the Darkwalker growled, smirking to himself at the burst of indignation the comment caused in the other’s mind.

 

What he hadn’t counted on, however, was for Hux to round on him and snatch hold of the hood on his cloak, Ren choking in surprise as it was yanked back sharply. By the time Ren managed to wrench himself loose of the other’s fingers, he only  _ just _ caught a fist in his large palm that had been intended for his temple. Growling, he shoved his fellow Imperator backward with an impatient huff, knowing that time was running thin and they shouldn’t waste their energy on another squabble. But it seemed that Hux had other ideas.

 

“Enough,” Ren urged, stepping back as the other tried to lunge for him again.

 

“Enough?  _ Enough _ ?!” Hux hoarsely barked. “Hardly.  _ I’m _ the one who has had enough! Enough of this whole situation, but especially  _ you _ ! I don’t care what my orders were, I’ll tell the Immortan I found you dead!”

 

It left Ren with a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach to hear those words, even if he knew that Hux wasn’t in any sort of condition to make good on them. The thought was enough, the Force user open to the waves of volatile emotions roiling beneath. Easily catching another swing, Ren knew that the other man was putting all his effort into his attacks, and that’s what was beginning to worry him. While the Darkwalker had spent most of his life out on the Fury Run and grew accustomed to life in the elements, Hux’s station as Immortan Snoke’s chief strategist put him inside the safety of Starkiller most of the time. His fair skin was angry red with burns wherever it was exposed, having risked the pain to prevent heat stroke by continuing to wear his usual layers. But it was clear that without water or any proper meals, Hux was growing weaker, keeping himself going on spite and anger alone. Which was impressive, really, but it couldn’t last…

 

“You’re only making things worse,” Ren tried again, this time keeping firm hold of the next fist thrown his way. “Look, I get it. You’re mad. But right now, we---”

 

“There is no ‘we’!” Hux howled, trying to pull himself free of Ren’s grasp. “I should have left you to  _ burn _ ! None of this...none of this would have happened if you had never come! Let go of me!”

 

On the next tug, the Darkwalker let go and stood back, watching with a guarded expression as the other man stumbled under his own momentum and toppled onto his ass in the sand. When it didn’t look like Hux intended to get up from the sudden tumble, Ren turned his back to study the overlook. Time was up, they simply could not wait for the remaining Rebels to leave on their own anymore. While the bacta had healed his injuries well enough, the Darkwalker could still feel a lingering stiffness in his arm from the damage that had been done to his nerves. He was skilled with a saber, but he worried that in this state, being outnumbered could be disastrous...and Hux didn’t seem like he could offer much by way of back-up right now. Still, Ren was left with little other choice. They couldn’t go after the others without his podracer, and they wouldn’t last much longer in general without water or food.

 

“Look, just...stay here,” the Darkwalker muttered, running a hand into his hair in exasperation. “If you can manage it, get your rifle and go to the overlook. I’m going down there and clearing them out.”

 

Silence followed his declaration, leaving Ren with a growing anger of his own. There he stood, ready to face uncertain odds in an attempt to win their survival and the ginger fuck couldn’t even be bothered with so much as a word in response. Hand itching for his staber, the Darkwalker spun on his heel and opened his mouth to tear into the other man but nearly choked on air at the sight before him. In the few moments after Ren had turned his back, Hux had curled up on his side in the sand with his arms clutched tight across his stomach and his chest heaved as he breathed in a winded manner. Anger reformed itself into panic in an instant as the younger man sprinted back to his companion, dropping down to put a hand on his sweat-slick forehead. Fingers twitched as he felt how unusually cool Hux’s skin was, a wave of nausea rolling through the other’s empty stomach causing Ren’s vision to waver for a moment.

 

“Shit…” he hissed to himself, pushing damp, copper hair away from Hux’s face. “You’re sick.”

 

“ _ You’re _ sick,” Hux chimed nonsensically, chuffing in amusement at his own supposed joke.

 

“No, like--- this is  _ serious _ , Hux, you’ve been out in this heat too long,” Ren fussed, frowning in exasperation as the other man tried to turn his face  _ into _ the sand to get it away from his hand.

 

“Stop touching me,” grumbled the Copper Warhand as his companion pulled him onto his back by the shoulder, sand clinging to his sweaty face. “I’m fine.”

 

“Kriffing hell you are. I gotta get you to some water.”

 

“Rebels took it all and burned it, remember?”

 

“They...burned the  _ water _ ?”

 

“Obviously.”

 

Staring at Hux in growing horror, Ren wracked his thoughts for a plan. Going down into the valley to fight the Rebels for the remaining supplies was off the table now, not willing to risk being captured or killed and dooming the other man in the process. He could go out into the wastes and hunt for a spring of some kind or any other source of water, but that still left the problem of what to do with Hux...he couldn’t leave him behind by himself. Chewing at his lip for a moment, Ren finally decided his next course of action and sighed, reaching out to heft the other man up into his arms. Getting to his feet, the Darkwalker brought his cloak around to cover as much of Hux as he could and closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force to guide the way. It had been a long time since he had pushed himself quite so far with his abilities, struggling to move beyond his body and the one closest to him to locate something that wasn’t alive.

 

“What are you--?” the other blurted, weakly trying to push himself from the cage of Ren’s arms, breaking the Force-user’s focus. “Put me down!”

 

“Shut up, I’m looking for water,” Ren whispered, brows drawing together as he tried to concentrate again.

 

“You can do that  _ without _ invading my personal space,” Hux countered, but devolved into groaning as his nausea worsened.

 

Escaping the loud ‘noise’ of Hux’s condition, Ren pushed past the distraction and began to probe their surroundings. At first, all he could detect were the barrels of water in the valley below, the canteens the various Rebels carried...but as he widened the radius of his senses, there was finally a blip a few miles away. Examining it further, he realized it must be in a cave, his mind experiencing the brush of cool air across the surface of his thoughts. A relieved sigh escaped him: he could carry Hux that distance without much problem, but time was his enemy as the other’s condition seemed to only be worsening.

 

“I found a cave, I think,” Ren explained, adjusting the other man against his chest before setting off in the direction the Force had indicated. “It has water. That’s where we’re going.”

 

“Why...didn’t you think to do that  _ sooner _ ?” Hux muttered petulantly.

 

“I didn’t really have a reason to, we were waiting for the Rebels to leave so we could go get my podracer. We didn’t know they would practically move in,” Ren shot back. “Just wandering off into the wastes without a vehicle would have been foolish.”

 

A lengthy pause followed, to the point that Ren had to peer down into the makeshift cover of his cloak to make sure Hux hadn’t passed out. While the other’s eyes were open, they didn’t seem very focused, appearing to be drowsy but holding on to consciousness tenuously. At the shift of the fabric, Hux seemed to snap out of his daze to look up at Ren with a scowl.

 

“So...why didn’t  _ you _ think to do that sooner?” he repeated with a different emphasis.

 

Snorting, Ren let go of the cloak and let the fabric fall in the other’s face, knowing it was probably a good sign that Hux still seemed to have his abrasive sense of humor. Falling into silence, the Darkwalker pressed on through the wastes, wishing idly that he still had his helmet to shield his eyes from the bright light but thankful for the lack of wind kicking sand into them. After he had put about a mile behind them, Ren noticed that the man in his arms had seemed to embrace the situation and was actually resting his clammy forehead against the Force-user’s chest. He could feel the nausea and fever wracking Hux’s body and it left a profound ache in his chest to see the other man in such a condition, weak and vulnerable. It didn’t suit him, and Ren would do anything to make the situation right again.

 

Another half a mile of walking in the high afternoon sun and the Copper Warhand stirred from his half-dozing state, giving a bodily shiver beneath Ren’s cloak. Hux remembered getting into an argument of some sort and taking several swings at his fellow Imperator, but the rest was...hazy, at best. Judging by his current position in the other’s arms, he must have lost the fight. Sweat soaked his scant clothes but somehow Hux felt both freezing cold and burning hot at the same time, his empty stomach sour and mouth dry as the sands around them. It was a blow to his ego, being carried like this by Ren, a man he couldn’t stand. But desperate times called for desperate measures...he couldn’t get back to his Immortan if he withered away in the wastes, after all. Yet there was an undeniable sense of security in those strong arms that were wrapped protectively around him, cradling him carefully under the blessed shade of a tattered cloak. Beneath his ear, Hux could hear the steady, strong beating of the Darkwalker’s heart, humming a note of contentment as he realized it had been what had lulled him into some semblance of a nap. Despite his behavior the past few days---the unkind words, the bouts of violence---Ren had decided against just leaving his fellow Imperator to be claimed by the Fury Run, risking his own health and safety to carry Hux to a source of water. Guilt tugged at Hux’s chest briefly, mixing with the nausea to pull a pained groan from his chapped lips.

 

“Hux?” Ren breathed, drawing the cloak aside to look down at him, frowning with concern.

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” the ginger murmured, clenching his eyes shut at even the tiny bit of light. “How much further?”

 

“It’s much closer now. Maybe another hour, two at most.”

 

To someone who hadn’t had water for two days in the wastes, it sounded like an eternity. Hux sighed, shivering again and reached a hand up to draw the cloak back over his face. He wished he had something to eat, if only just to be able to throw it up and be done with the cramping nausea that was the source of his current pain. When a hand shifted to rub against his back, Hux startled at first, but then found himself calmer for it, memories of a mother’s touch swimming briefly to the surface...amongst others.

 

“You  _ will _ be fine,” Ren assured him, keeping his steady pace, though the words may have been for his own benefit. “We’re well over halfway there, then you can have all the water you want. There might even be some cave fish we could eat. A proper meal, a fire...you’ll be back in shape to kick my ass in no time, Imperator.”

 

“Still could right now, if I wanted,” Hux slurred, face still pressed against the younger man’s chest.

 

“I’m sure.”

 

It was silent again for several minutes before the Copper Warhand spoke again, his voice barely a whisper and it was far too close to a whine for Ren’s comfort. There was pain beneath the physical that the Darkwalker could sense, but nothing exact, just an old wound that seemed to have worked itself open within Hux’s mind.

 

“This is how he died, I think,” Hux stated.

 

“How  _ who _ died? And you aren’t dying in the first place, Hux.”

 

“You asked about the bands on my right arm, the brown ones. Those are his. He can’t wear them now because he’s gone, so I carry them for him.”

 

“I don’t understand, who is ‘ _ he _ ’?” Ren prompted, finding himself moving with a hastened stride at hearing the other man talk of death.

 

“Should have been a routine scouting mission. Just out and back, no engagement. I would have  _ never _ sent him if I’d known…” Hux continued, as if he hadn’t heard the other’s question. “The Fury Run was no place for someone like him. Too gentle, too kind...but fearsome in his devotion, and clever. The best mechanic born to Starkiller.”

 

Something in Ren’s stomach fluttered briefly to think that Hux was talking about a lost lover, one whom he might had inadvertently sent to his death, if the Darkwalker understood what the other was talking about. He recognized the sensation as jealousy, but given the situation, he shoved it down desperately and pushed himself into a slow jog. There would be time enough for sulking---why would he, though, it wasn’t as if he even  _ liked _ Hux in the first place---once they were safely in the cave.

 

“A mistake,” Ren assured the other man, hoping to comfort his troubled conscience. “Of course you wouldn’t have knowingly sent him into harm’s way.”

 

“The Fury Run  _ is _ harm’s way...I should have never let him go.”

 

Keeping his footing on the uneven, broken earth became increasingly difficult as Ren pressed on, his mind under assault by the fevered emotions bleeding from the man in his arms. In the delirium brought on by his exposure and dehydration, Hux’s thoughts circled the drain and the nausea only intensified as he breathed stale hot air beneath the protection of the cloak. Weakly, he brought his satchel around from his hip to rummage inside, clammy fingers closing around a small metal disk that he clutched against his chest like a lifeline. It was honestly the worst he had ever felt in his life, and despite Ren’s assurances, he was convinced that he was dying. So sure of his fate, in fact, the Darkwalker nearly tripped over his own feet at a particularly potent wave of despair crashed into him, but he remained upright and threw caution to the wind in favor of taking off in a sprint.

 

“Don’t bury me,” Hux instructed his companion quietly, unconsciousness digging its claws into the back of his mind. “Not in this worthless sea of sand.”

 

“Hux, shut up, we’re almost there!” Ren snapped breathlessly, ignoring the burn in his calves as he pushed himself even harder. “The cave, it’s just ahead of us now!”

 

“Let me burn, burn like home. I am awaited. Only the wind can carry me to the stars...”

 

“No one is burning you because you’re  _ not _ dying!” the Darkwalker practically pleaded, a brief flash of relief renewing his efforts as he realized his feet had found solid stone again and it sloped gently up toward a crown of jagged spires.

 

Somewhere within the maze of pointed stones would be the mouth of a cave, leading down into a small, subterranean lake. Of course, as the incline grew more pronounced, it only served to slow Ren down further, especially while he was carrying Hux in his arms. The water was so close now, he could practically hear the drops splashing down from the roof of the cave into the lake, smell the crisp scent of an untouched supply of Jakku’s most valuable resource. Knowing that Hux hated having his mind invaded, the Darkwalker still tried to offer even the briefest glimpse of what he could sense to give the other man something to inspire him. But true panic set in when Ren heard silence within the Copper Warhand, a hand reaching up to pull the cloak back to peer down at the other man. After trailing off during his last statement, Hux had finally lost the fight to stay awake and blacked out, leaving him to lay limply against Ren’s chest. Gritting his teeth at the sight of the mighty Imperator brought so low, the younger man clung tight to the other in his arms and raced into the maze, hyperfocused on the siren call of the water that he knew would save Hux. It  _ had _ to.

 

Forehead running with sweat, Ren sprinted around a bend and gave a crow of victory as he spotted a dark opening in the rock face at last. His legs were screaming in agony and his arms had long since gone numb with the task of carrying Hux, but it had all been worth it as the Darkwalker plunged into the blessed shadows and could feel the cool dampness within. Expecting to have to fumble blindly, Ren’s gaze was drawn to the ceiling in wonder as he saw the stalactites above were host to a luminous fungi of some sort that bathed the cave in a faint blue light. It was just enough that he was easily able to wind his way deeper within, turning sideways to edge through a somewhat narrow passage that soon opened up into a domed chamber and the lake. It was fairly shallow around the edges from what he could tell, sloping down into a depth that could be no deeper than his shoulders toward the furthest end. Probing the pool with the Force confirmed that there was a population of small, blind fish and snails that seemed to glow with the same luminescence as the fungi. 

 

“Hux, wake up, we’re here,” Ren muttered, carefully kneeling down beside the lake to settle the other man on its bank.

 

Removing his cloak to cast it aside along with his gloves, the Darkwalker gently smoothed hair away from Hux’s face, frowning at the fever he could still feel burning beneath the other’s brow. When his companion failed to respond to words or even a light shake of his shoulder, Ren swore under his breath and went for the satchel of supplies at Hux’s hip. Finding a cloth after rummaging through it hastily, Ren dipped it into the water and folded it over on itself into a makeshift compress, pressing it against the other man’s forehead and let the excess flow over dry, fevered skin. It drew a murmur from Hux’s lips and his eyes fluttered beneath their lids, but still he didn’t wake. Running a hand into his hair, the Darkwalker scowled in frustration before deciding to change tactics.

 

“If you wake up and bitch me out for this…” he grumbled to himself, but rose to his feet nonetheless and shucked his boots off and rolled his pants up to his knees.

 

Picking Hux up once more, Ren removed the supply satchel and left it by the shore before carrying the other man to the water, striding carefully around the snails until he found a clear spot in the shallows to set him down in after kneeling into the water himself. The younger man sat on his heels and used the cloth to scrub the sand and dried sweat from his companion’s face, watching the water soak greedily into Hux’s underclothes. To his credit, he did his best not to stare too much, as the wet fabric clung closer around the other’s body and didn’t leave much to the imagination...Ren had always had this image of Hux being rather stickly, hiding it beneath his many layers and an ego far too large for his body. But in truth, the man was in fantastic shape, boasting lean muscle that he must have worked hard to maintain after taking over as the Immortan’s strategist. 

 

Leaving the cloth pressed across Hux’s brow, Ren sighed with a frown, eyes flicking to the brown bands around the other’s right arm, feeling his chest tighten with jealousy again. Warring with himself, a hand finally shifted to touch one of them carefully, wondering who had been so important to this man that he would devote space on his skin for permanently honoring them along with his own accomplishments. It was then that Ren spotted the small metal disk that Hux had been clutching desperately against his chest, now held only in his left hand. Not wanting it to get damaged, the Darkwalker hastily slipped it from the other’s fingers and was about to return it to the satchel on the shore when he realized what it was. Eyes widened at the rare piece of tech: a small, personal holo-projector. Guiltily glancing toward the unconscious Hux, Ren had a suspicion that the disk would surely contain the man he had been deliriously lamenting earlier...and he wanted to see him.  _ Needed _ to.

 

Taking a deep breath, the Darkwalker knew it was an invasion of privacy, but he could surely explain that he had only wanted to be sure the water hadn’t ruined the device and was checking to see that it still worked. It eased his conscience slightly, enabling him to finally press the button on the side of the device. The projector within hummed to life and the first image was a pair of...children, which Ren had not expected at all. The holo was blue-white with no other colors to help identify who they were, but he knew that one of them had to be Hux himself as a boy; even then, his freckled face and slight scowl were undeniable. Perhaps ten years of age, Hux stood with a practiced stance, arms linked behind his back and looking as stern as he could manage in his fresh uniform. Beside him was another boy with longer hair that fell in gentle waves, his hands clasped together before him with an uncertain smile and he seemed to be dressed in a similar uniform. It took him a moment, but Ren soon recognized with a start that they were twins, the guilt flaring back to life in his chest as he became painfully aware of the nature of this memento. 

 

Still, he was already this far...pressing the button again, he switched the projector to the next image. Ren was greeted by the brothers again, this time as young men and wearing different uniforms this time: Hux proudly grinned in his Vworkka colors and bore a rifle strapped to his back while his brother---long hair braided back this time---was dressed in the colors of Starkiller’s mechanics, called Nightwatchers. It must have been taken when the two had been promoted from the general ranks of warriors to more prestigious positions. They turned to each other and began to talk excitedly. Ren wished desperately that the tiny disk had allowed for sound, but contented himself with the glimpse of his companion seeming genuinely...happy. Almost rarer than water on Jakku, he knew it was wrong to pry further, but the Darkwalker was hypnotized by this emotion from the unlikeliest source.

 

Clicking the button a third time, the projector provided him with an image of the long-haired twin and another man, his hair fair and curly and lips drawn into a fond smile as he stood before Hux’s twin, their hands intertwined. There was no sound, but as they took turns speaking, Ren recognized their stance as part of Starkiller’s traditional marriage ceremonies. A faint blush dusted his own cheeks as he watched the long-haired man stammering his vows nervously and crying happily, his soon-to-be husband grinning from ear to ear over it. Finger hovering over the button to change the scene, Ren startled as a hand took hold of his wrist and stopped him, nearly fumbling the holo-disk into the lake with a sheepish, flustered expression.

 

“Hux! I--!” he blurted, the tips of his ears flaring red as he looked down into squinted green eyes. “I was just--”

 

“Armitech.”

 

“I...what?” Ren muttered, blinking in confusion.

 

“His name is...was Armitech,” Hux explained, voice quiet and hoarse. The use of past-tense left Ren with an ache in his chest that wasn't just his own, able to feel it radiating from the other man.

 

Eyes shifting focus from Ren's dark, apologetic gaze, Hux studied his new surroundings. Cool water lay against his sun-scorched skin and if not for his dehydration, he could have cried for the relief it brought him. It was also unheard of, actually  _ laying _ in a body of water this big, a luxury that no one would even dare dream of on an arid planet like Jakku. Above him on the jagged ceiling, Hux transfixed on the glowing fungi clinging to the rock there and tried to soak in the current situation. He couldn't remember much of the trip, but apparently Ren had made good on his promise to bring him to water. Already, just by being in the cool water and dim light, Hux's furious nausea had begun to abate. Realizing he still had hold of the younger man's wrist, Hux released his grasp and put his hands against the slick lakebed to push himself upright so he could be in a better position to finally drink some of the water. Part of him railed at the idea, knowing there were living creatures in it and now himself and Ren, but beggars could not be choosers in the end. 

 

Noticing Hux struggle with the effort, Ren moved wordlessly behind the other man to help lift him up from the shallows, marveling at the fact that the gesture was met with no resistance. Once he was satisfied the other man was settled, the Darkwalker actually sat down behind him, offering his back to his companion to lean against for support. Again, Hux accepted quietly, leaving Ren with a light fluttering in his chest.

 

“I didnt mean to pry,” he said after a long moment, clicking the holo-projector off. “I was just---”

 

“You were curious, as is our nature,” Hux rasped wetly after his first handful of water, giving an unabashed groan of happiness before going for a second helping.

 

“A bit, I suppose,” Ren admitted, turning pink at the noise the other man had made. “Your...brother. I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

 

“You couldn't have, I try not to think of him too often,” Hux sighed after swallowing a bit more water, desperate for more but knowing better than to guzzle it on a sickly stomach.

 

“You were close.”

 

“Yes, very. Techie was a gentle soul from an early age, but brilliant and a skilled mechanic. He was the one who helped me design and build my rig, the only one I trusted to bring my vision to life.”

 

Splashing some of the water onto his face, Hux closed his eyes and let himself recline against Ren's back, finding the sturdiness unexpectedly comfortable. He was tired, still, but for the first time in a while, he was able to let go of his tensions. After several minutes in companionable silence, the Darkwalker shifted a bit, glancing to the satchel on the shore.

 

“If you think you can manage for a minute on your own, I’ll put your holo-projector back and get out of my pants, they’re kinda soaked,” Ren murmured, brightening as Hux gave a chuff of amusement.

 

“I think I can handle sitting, thank you very much. Go get out of your soggy pants, I promise not to watch.”

 

Ren sneered, glad that the dim light of the cave helped to mask his blush as he slowly rose to his feet to avoid jostling Hux as he did, glancing down at him briefly before wandering back to the shoreline. Once the holo-projector was tucked away safely in the other’s satchel, the Darkwalker unbuckled his belt and shimmied his way out of his pants. He was half tempted to see if Hux was actually watching him, but thought better of it, only turning back when he heard a light splash as he was lifting his shirt up over his head. Alarm flared as he noticed his fellow Imperator was laying in the water again, realizing the sound had come from him falling backward. Kicking his pants aside unceremoniously, Ren surged back over to Hux’s side to check on him, dropping onto his hands and knees. But before he could say a word, he gave a yelp of shock when one of the ginger’s hands reached up to take hold of the front of his undershirt and pulled him down until he was close enough to press a chaste kiss to Ren’s cheek.

 

“What...what was  _ that _ for?” the Darkwalker breathed, face a shade of pink that Hux found quite attractive.

 

“You saved my life, can’t I offer a token of gratitude?”

 

“Well, I mean, I suppose not, but…” Ren murmured, expression still adorably confused. “I thought you hated me.”

 

“I did, I still might, I haven’t really made up my mind,” Hux hummed, offering a sly smirk. “Why not try to sway me against it?”

 

“You’re still delirious,” the younger groaned, trying to move away, but the other’s grip held firm. “There’s no other explanation.”

 

“Don’t be so dramatic. Tomorrow is a fool’s dream on the Fury Run, yesterday is lost to the sands, so that leaves only today. Why shouldn’t I indulge? Why shouldn’t  _ you _ ?”

 

“And you’re calling  _ me _ dramatic? You started the morning trying to slug me in the face. Again. That’s a bit of a sudden change, don’t you think?”

 

“A lot can happen in a few hours,” Hux said with a shrug. “I could have died today. You could have left me to do so and no one would have ever known. You risked your life for me, despite my behaviour. I’ve been---”

 

“A total pile of luggabeast shit?” Ren supplied with a lopsided grin that stopped Hux’s heart for a moment.

 

“Yes, well said. I wasn’t exactly at my best, and I was letting my emotions run rampant rather than being logical.”

 

“No kidding, I couldn’t tell.”

 

“Shut up, I’m trying to apologize!” Hux snapped, but it only made the younger man burst into beautiful laughter that was almost more a balm than the cool water. “While you  _ were _ a fracking moron and got your ass handed to you by an untrained scavenger, I know you didn’t intend for the Rebels to attack or blow up our home. But at the time, you were there and available for me to take out my anger on, I suppose.”

 

Ren chewed at his lower lip for a long moment before he leaned closer, pressing a curious kiss to the corner of the other’s mouth, brief and dangerously sweet.

 

“Trust me when I say that I want to get back at them for the strike as well, though I can understand that it means more to you than I,” Ren said softly, moving as if to give a kiss to the other side of Hux’s mouth.

 

“You have no idea,” the Copper Warhand growled, hand moving from Ren’s shirt to hold his chin, redirecting the kiss to land against his lips properly.

  
Unsure of himself for a moment, the Darkwalker hesitated with his lips against Hux’s before pressing more earnestly, going as far as climbing over the other man’s hips to get a better angle. While still up on his hands and knees, Ren was well aware of just how intimate the position was and how little clothing they both wore, heart starting to race in his chest while his mind attempted to catch up with what was happening.

 

“All _ this _ because I saved you?” he breathed against Hux’s lips as he parted from the kiss to breathe.

 

“Maybe,” Hux chuckled, looking up at the younger man with hooded eyes. “Or maybe I just needed an excuse. Though up until recent events, I didn’t have a face to put with the fantasy. Yours is a pleasant surprise.”

 

“You... _ what _ ?” Ren blurted, and Hux took his turn to laugh. “ _ Seriously _ ?”

 

“Oh come on, is it  _ that _ unbelievable?”

 

“Well, I guess I just never considered you had those sorts of...urges.”

 

“I’m flesh and blood just like you, not some droid,” Hux snorted. “But given that my standards are a  _ bit _ higher than average, I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell.”

 

“Are you  _ really _ going to use a pun like that so soon?”

 

“Yes, I am. As I said, nothing but today is certain. We’re both here, we’re both alive, and I don’t feel like vomiting or punching you in that handsome face of yours. So…”

 

“I don’t...I mean, don’t get me wrong, but do you really think you’re up for...y’know,  _ that _ ?” Ren asked, flinching as he was treated to a sour glare from the man beneath him.

 

“Let’s just pretend it’s part of your medical care, then, Ren,” Hux said in a low voice that sent a shock of excitement down the younger man’s spine with a shudder. “Or...did you really  _ only _ get that hard-on because we were fighting?”

 

“No. You looked...really good. Angry. Primal.”

 

“Go on,” Hux purred, and Ren was helpless but to obey.

 

“I liked the feeling of your wrists under my hands,” he continued, watching eagerly as the ginger lazily stretched his arms out above his head in an inviting manner he was only to happy to accept. “They’re small beneath my fingers, but strong...there’s power in you that I’m drawn to.”

 

“Power, hm? But we’re equals in rank and I’m not a Darkwalker like you or even in touch with the Force at all, what power is there in me that you would find so attractive?”

 

“It’s hard to explain, but it’s like you have a sun burning in the cage of your ribs,” Ren explained, shifting Hux’s wrists into one hand so the other was free to move across the curve of his chest.

 

Eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, it was clear that the Copper Warhand was practically touch-starved, breath hitching with a soft groan as one of Ren’s thumbs experimentally brushed over one of his nipples. When the nub of flesh hardened so easily with his attention to it, the Darkwalker was quick to provide the same treatment to the other one with similar results.

 

“At times, it’s almost blinding. When you spoke in the plaza, for example, to rally the troopers... I could almost see a crown of fire around your head, lighting your eyes and your voice...your voice was the bark of a sandstorm’s thunder.”

 

Back raising into a slight arch as he listened to Ren, Hux tried to see himself through the other’s eyes and found himself amazed that he could ever be described in such a god-like manner. Such words of reverence shouldn’t belong to an Imperator, he wasn’t worthy of---

 

“No,” Ren growled, leaning down to press a firm, open-mouthed kiss to Hux’s neck, his teeth drawing a moan as he bit down.

 

[You glow with sunfire, Hux] he continued, speaking with his thoughts so he could continue to use his mouth to ravage the other man’s throat with kisses and bites. [I’ve seen it for a while now. It’s only us here, now, so there’s no need to pretend it isn’t there.]

 

“But,” Hux gasped, hands straining for freedom beneath Ren’s hand, for once having no qualms with the other man thinking at him. “That’s...that’s impossible. Only an Immortan has---”

 

[Snoke does not have sunfire in him, not even an ounce of it. Maybe once long ago, he did, but it’s gone now if so.] Ren pressed, lavishing his tongue over one of his fresh marks with a pleased hum, knowing it would bruise. [It lives in you.]

 

“Careful, Ren,” the other whispered, skin breaking into goose flesh, but not from the temperature of the water. “That borders on treason.”

 

Raising a brow at the warning, Ren’s wandering hand plunged further down until he was able to cup it over the front of Hux’s trapped erection, sneering as the other man helplessly pressed up into his touch needily.

 

[Ah, careful, yourself, because  _ this _ feels like your cock is bordering on treasonous] the Darkwalker teased, making Hux laugh breathlessly. [Your body is gorgeous, by the way. And it looks even better writhing under mine.]

 

“Fracking hell, Ren, did you get that line from a cantina fresher?” Hux groaned, first just in exasperation, but it melted into one of pleasure as the other man’s fingers began to rub against him.

 

[Sorry, but I was being honest there…] the Darkwalker sighed, feeling his own cock straining against the thin, wet fabric of his undershorts. [I want you.]

 

“Tell me what you want,” Hux ordered, rolling his hips into Ren’s palm insistently. “Use your voice. I want to actually hear you say it.”

 

Reluctantly pulling his mouth from the other man’s neck with a lewd ‘pop’, Ren licked his lips and stared down at Hux with dark eyes, panting slightly from his efforts so far.

 

“I want to fuck you, Hux,” Ren growled, pressing down with his palm firmly over the other’s cock. “I want to taste sunfire on my tongue when I hear you moaning in pleasure under me.”

 

Green eyes widened and a delicious shade of red spread beneath the Copper Warhand’s freckles at the words, feeling his mouth go dry with need. Indicating his head toward the satchel on the shore,Hux finally offered a coy sort of grin to the other’s confession.

 

“In my bag. There’s a bottle of gel we use for treating sun burns,” he explained. “Try not to waste all of it on getting me ready, won’t you? We’ll need to ration it until we can get our hands on more, after all.”

 

Blinking sluggishly, it took Ren a moment to bring himself out of the fog of desire to realize that this was actually happening and that Hux was...prepared. Well,  _ he _ knew the gel was meant for treating burns, of course, but the fact that Hux knew it could be used for other things left the Darkwalker blushing anew. But he reached out a hand toward the bag without breaking his gaze on Hux, willing the bottle to fetch itself from within and it snapped into his waiting palm.

 

“Hm, I suppose your Force  _ does _ have its uses, after all,” Hux chuckled.

 

“You’re... _ sure _ you want to do this?” Ren found himself asking, earning a huff from the man he was straddling.

 

“Ren, for the love of the stars,  _ fuck me _ . Is  _ that _ clear enough to you concerning what I want?”

 

“Yes, sir,” the younger murmured, relinquishing his hold on Hux’s wrists in favor of sitting up enough to tug the hem of the other’s shorts down to his knees.

 

Hux watched in hungry fascination as Ren squeezed some of the gel onto the tips of his middle and pointer fingers, using his thumb to rub some warmth into it while the other hand reached down to hold the other man’s hips up out of the water.

 

“That has a nice ring to it when you say it,” Hux sighed, trying to get his mind and body on the same page as the other finally began to circle his hole with a gel-slick finger. “Do you like following my orders, Ren?”

 

“Yes, sir, I do,” the Ren confessed quietly, noting how it invoked a spike of pleasure in Hux to hear it, absolutely thrilled himself and terribly turned on with that knowledge that he could do that to Hux. “May I finger you now, sir?”

 

“Fuck, yes,  _ please _ ,” Hux moaned, sucking in a breath and tensing up as Ren began to slowly press his slick finger inside him.

 

By no means was he a virgin, but it had been quite some time since Hux had allowed anyone else to touch him like this, his body rejecting the intrusion at first. But he took several steadying breaths and willed himself to relax, one of his hands reaching out to take hold of Ren’s wrist as something to ground himself with. Only when the younger man felt the other’s tension begin to wane did he press further, stopping when he had gotten up to his knuckle. Allowing Hux a moment, Ren slowly pulled back, just as slowly as he had pushed inside, taking up a gentle stroking motion within so he could watch for any signs of discomfort.

 

“Does that feel good?” he whispered, crooking his finger on a forward stroke, earning a deep moan from the other man.

 

“Yes... _ fuck _ , it’s been too long,” Hux groaned, squeezing the other’s wrist. “More. Use your other finger.”

 

Ren withdrew from inside him, but only to add his second finger as he was ordered, pushing into him with a bit more force this time now that the other was already slick inside. The added width caused Hux to shudder and press himself into the fingers, blushing with the knowledge that he was practically fucking himself against Ren’s palm. But there was no one there to judge or care what they did, and for once, he was free to be as needy and noisy as he wanted.

 

“You’re really eager,” Ren breathed out, unable to tear his eyes away from how Hux’s body greedily accepted his fingers inside, heart fluttering wildly in his chest. “I should have saved your life sooner.”

 

Hux gave a breathless chuckle that he choked on moments later as he cried out, Ren having scissored his fingers inside him and rubbed against his prostate in the process. When the younger man realized what he had found, he took great pleasure in aiming for it with each new stroke of his fingers, reveling in how it made Hux writhe.

 

“Listen to you...you’re such a noisy slut, aren’t you?” 

 

“Stars, Ren...if you keep that up, you’re not gotta even get your cock in me,” Hux practically whined.

 

“I don’t think I’d mind…”

 

“Well,  _ I _ do. I want to be properly fucked,” the Copper Warhand demanded. “After all the shit that has happened in the past week, I think I’ve earned it.”

 

“As you wish, sir,” Ren snickered, pulling his hand away from the writhing ginger, admiring the way he pouted to find himself empty again.

 

Wasting no time, the Darkwalker retrieved the bottle of gel and squeezed out a bit more into his palm, pulling himself out of his own undershorts at  last . Hux lay in the shallows, gaze falling to the younger man’s thick cock and turned bright red at the sight of it, Ren treated to the loud flare of desire it invoked in the other man as he watched him slather himself with the gel. Ren could tell teasing Hux was going to be his new favorite hobby. He smirked as he put on a show of giving himself a few strokes, head tilting back with a pleased sigh to finally have some relief to the throbbing he had endured since they had begun.

 

“Stop playing with yourself already,” Hux snapped, desperation in his voice.

 

“Yes, sir,” Ren hummed, dark eyes predatory as he crawled back over Hux’s body and nestled between his thighs.

 

Before Hux had time to question what the other was up to, he found himself easily lifted from the water and onto his knees. Holding into one side of Hux's narrow hips, Ren aligned himself before guiding his fellow Imperator down onto his cock slowly, shuddering at the embrace of tight, slick muscle as it took him in, inch by inch. Hux held his breath, only letting it go in a heave once he had managed to take the other man in completely. With his cock sheathed inside, Ren gently wrapped the other’s legs around his waist and took firm hold of Hux's sharp hips. To keep himself balanced, Hux wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, resting his forehead on Ren’s shoulder as the younger man used his hands to guide him up and almost off of his cock before bringing him back down.

 

“You’re so tight…” Ren moaned, pushing up with his own hips to meet each downward shift of Hux’s.

 

Soon the cave was filled with the wet, lewd sounds of Ren basically fucking himself with Hux’s body, but the other Imperator couldn’t have been more pleased with the situation, offering louder moans as he let himself be used. He was still pretty tired from his time in the elements and knew he wouldn’t have been able to do a whole lot of moving around on his own, but it seemed that the younger man had no such problem. Dragging his nails against the other’s broad back as Ren kept him filled with his cock, Hux felt himself drawn closer and closer to the edge with each buck of the other’s hips. Really, it was pretty embarrassing how little he was going to last, as far as he was concerned, but by the trembling grip on his hips he knew that Ren wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer himself.

 

“Where...where do you want me to..?” Ren asked through a heaving breath, groaning as Hux tucked his face into the crook of his neck and gave a firm bite.

 

“Inside,” he instructed Ren. “Don’t stop...I’m so close.”

 

Nodding in understanding, Ren seemed to draw from his reserves and began to buck himself eagerly up into Hux, each press of his cock practically slamming against that sweet spot he had found before and it was enough to finally push him to his breaking point. Throwing his head back, Hux gave a deep moan of ecstasy as he came hard, spilling himself onto Ren’s stomach and chest unapologetically. The sight of the other man in the thralls of pleasure combined with the sudden clamping of his muscles around Ren’s cock was all it took to have the younger man following after him, clutching him close with a groan as he bucked into him a few more times before falling still. Hux shuddered at the strange sensation of the hot fluid spilling inside him, but he greedily pressed himself down and ground his hips into Ren’s to make sure he didn’t miss any of it, panting raggedly against the other man’s neck.

 

“Fuck, Ren…” he gasped out, laying limply against his chest. “I’m not sure I  _ didn’t _ die after all.”

 

“Was it...really  _ that _ good?”

 

“Well, I can’t move anything right now, so...yeah, it was kriffing good.”

 

Laughing breathlessly at that, Ren carefully lifted Hux up off his lap and into his arms, rising on shaky legs to walk them back to the shore. It wasn’t much, but he made a makeshift bedroll out of his cloak and shirt to lay his companion on. Already, Hux could feel sleep calling him, gazing up at Ren with a sated smirk.

 

“I’m gonna clean up and see if I can’t catch us some of those fish,” Ren said, reaching out to brush some of the other’s hair from his face. “Get some rest, you need it.”

 

“Mmm, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Hux agreed with a yawn, curling himself up with a contented glow about him that Ren decided he really enjoyed. “Don’t be long, I don’t need you waking me up when you settle in.”

 

“You...want me to..?” Ren blurted, earning a bright bark of laughter from the other man.

 

“It’ll get cold in here, it’s best that we keep warm by sleeping together. It’s only practical.”

 

“Right...is  _ that _ what they call it now?”

 

“Shut up and go catch out dinner, brigand.”

 

“Yes,  _ sir _ ,” Ren replied with a salute, smiling brightly before turning off to wade into the lake again.

  
  


Hux wondered if it was a mistake to have let his Immortan’s protégé fuck him, but recalling Ren’s confession, it was hard to find any part of him that cared what Snoke thought about it. Which was a dangerous, treasonous train of thought to travel on...sighing, he closed his eyes and nestled himself further into the other man’s cloak, breathing in his scent from the fabric and knowing that it was too late to go back now.

 

Wheels were already in motion in his mind.

 

Sunfire was the mark of a true leader, at least according to legend.

 

If Snoke didn’t possess it and Hux  _ did _ , did that mean he was meant to be the next Immortan?

 

[I would follow you.] Ren supplied, glancing back to the shore with a fond grin. [If you asked me to.]

Hux didn’t reply, but the lack of reprimand for the suggestion told Ren all he needed to know. 


End file.
